Just Write.

I’ve been apprehensive to write for a couple of weeks, as I think I just ran out of things to say that I thought would be interesting. Most of my posts consist of talking introspectively, but sometimes you stop thinking so deeply all the time.

I noticed a lot of the time I would start writing a post thinking it was about one thing, but then the topic would turn around completely and my post would end up being about something I didn’t even know I wanted to talk about.

There’s been a ton on my mind lately, and I’ve found myself falling into bad habits and dealing with some anxiety, so… I’m just going to write about nothing.

Summer 2025

Tonight, I feel for some reason, is kicking off summer for me. My youngest brother graduates high school tonight, and I’ll be absolutely slam-packed this Memorial Day weekend. I still think about summertime like I did when I was a kid—a lot like I think about the weekend sometimes. I spend a lot of time waiting to live life until the weekend or summer comes around. It’s like I save all my plans for that specified time period and then go balls to the wall with a packed schedule for a limited time. But then when the weekdays roll around or we get to late September… I stop planning. I don’t commit to doing anything.

Why have I been conditioned to be this way? I legitimately can compare the warmer season and weekends to be so similar—it’s a depressing way to live, but it’s like the energy truly doesn’t exist in me during weekdays or winter time. I fantasize about melting into my couch whenever I’m not home on a weeknight. What the hell?! Weekdays are the majority of my life! Why can’t I be compelled to leave the house more often!?

Maybe I’m not giving my work life enough blame here. I really compartmentalize my life at work into a separate being, almost. I live life legitimately like I’m in Severance. But in reality, that’s still such a large part of my time. I still spend all day “doing something.”

And yet, we only work in order to make money to live a life—which I, in fact, don’t do most of the time.
(Also, my wife will read this, and I certainly do not discredit all the quiet time we spend together on weeknights, honey—it’s the only way I’d want to spend that time. ❤️)

Summer is, in fact, here though, and I do love Michigan’s May to October. I’m already imagining the camp trips and the beach days, frying myself into a piece of beef jerky in the sun with absolutely not enough sunblock.

But just like Sundays, I’m already dreading October 31st—when my schedule goes cold